


Can You Know When?

by allhalethealpha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: By assholes who are wimps, M/M, Stiles gets jumped, and sadness, but then there's derek, theres some bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:44:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allhalethealpha/pseuds/allhalethealpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He should have seen it coming, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can You Know When?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by: http://calla-haa.tumblr.com/post/35301057775/poor-stiles
> 
> Oh and. Bad uses of the word 'fag' and violence and a sad Stiles. 
> 
> Oh oh and and this was written on my phone, so italics are like /this/ sorry.

Stiles should have saw it coming- really. It shouldn't be a surprise when he's tugged back roughly by his red hood into the dark alley. 

He's skinny and small and an easy target. He's shoved up against a brick wall by a thug, two more standing behind him wearing a smirk. 

"Sheriff's kid come out to play?" The one gripping his shirt draws out, like a teasing game. Stiles swallows the lump in his throat because, fuck. 

"Man, your prick of a father-"

Stiles pushes against the one holding him for the fucker who just insulted his dad. "I'm sure a low life like you deserved it!" He spat back, still trying to shove against the one holding him. 

He gets the breath knocked out of him when he's shoved against the cold, hard brick a little to roughly. 

His stomach is tight and twisted, and his heart is jumping in his throat. And he sees the outline of a gun in one of their pants, and his heart rate really sky rockets. 

"Aye, I don't think our little friend here likes it when we call his dad out, do you?" The one holding him taunts, and Stiles lets out a growl he thinks Derek would be proud, but the asshole in front of him just chuckled.

"Sheriff Stilinski might want to watch it, or one of these days he'll be laying by his wife. Leaving his faggot son /alone/."

And Stiles looses it. He doesn't care of he gets the shit knocked out of him, no one is going to talk like /that/ and get away with it.

He lunges forward, his fingernails digging into whatever flesh he can find. He feels it break the skin, but soon he's laying breathless on the ground, and he hadn't even felt the punch. But then he's getting grabbed and yanked up, only to be stumbling with the force of another punch. He gets shoved down again with two pairs of hands, and when they start kicking his breath is struggling to come out of his abused lungs. 

He hears insults as he's being hit and kicked, and he thinks it'll stop but it doesn't. He hears the word 'fag' repeatedly, and that shit really digs deep. More than the hits. He shouldn't care what people say or think about him, but being called /that/, it makes him feel like he's done something /wrong/ for being in love. 

He tries to fight back, he really does. He thinks he might manage a few punches here and there, but his head is really pounding, and he can't fucking breath. He feels blood on his face, and he can't move anymore, so he sits there and fucking takes the hitting. 

Then it stops. 

For a heart stopping second, he thinks they stopped to grab the gun. Then he hears the sound of a bone /breaking/ into two, and he thinks it's his own so his breathing stops. 

Until he hears the scared shouts of one of the guys who jumped him. He hears a growl and screams about red eyes and sharp fingernails. 

He cracks open an eye to see Derek's leather clad muscular arm sending a sharp and painful punch across the face of one of the idiots. 

"Wanna call me a faggot?" Derek taunts as he looms over the man. The man stutters before Derek grabs his shirt and sends another punch across his face. Derek is past the point of control, and as much as these guys deserve it, he's only thinking of Derek. 

The other guy, the one who isn't on the ground after being /beaten/ by two punches, and the one who's not on the ground, sobbing over a broken arm, grabs Derek to pull him off. Derek yanks his arm away and sends a punch across that guys face to and man, karma is beautiful and all but /Derek/.

"Touch him- or his dad- again, and you'll be dealing with /me/. Maybe i'll want to /come out and play/."

There's scared, pathetic whimpers and stumbling and running and shouts about getting the hell out. 

Stiles is fading in and out, so he hardly hears a thing. He winces and lets out a whimper when he's being pulled to his feet. He cringes and tenses, because he thinks these guys will beat him to /death/. 

"Stiles." The voice is deep, but laced with concern. 

"Derek." It takes him a minute to register, but when he does he just drops his head to Derek's shoulder and /breathes/. 

He's shaking, he's scared, and he's /pissed/. 

His hands are clinging to Derek for dear life, and he's starting to feel self conscious because Derek will notice the dampness on his shirt. 

It's not the fact he got jumped, it's the fact of what they /said/

Derek knows, he fucking /knows/ it's a fear of Stiles' dad getting killed, getting hurt, and Stiles being alone. He's always jumped to his dad in any situation, because its all he has left. He already has a hole in his heart from his mom, and it thickens from just when he /thinks/ of his dad dying. 

The thought of watching them lower his dad in the ground makes him cry harder, makes him unable to hold back the sob. 

His stomach is still knotted and tensed tight, and it hurts, especially because of the ugly sobbing he's doing. The physical pain hurts less than the emotional pain. 

Derek slowly and gently pets his back, whispering soft words of comfort in his ear. 

"I got you."

"I won't let them."

"You're okay now, I'm here. I've got you. You're safe."

And the best of all, "I love you."

Derek eases Stiles against the wall, lets him slump against the dirty bricks so it'll take some weight off. Derek gently takes his chin, and Stiles winces when he tries to get away. 

"I gotta see.." Derek murmurs softly before slowly lifting his chin. His arm his rested against the wall beside Stiles' head, and he sees the shaking in Derek's arm. He /knows/ how hard Derek is fighting to keep the control, knows how difficult it was to let those guys go, especially seeing the cuts and bruised eye and blood across Stiles' face. 

Stiles shakingly lifts his hand and brushes it across Derek's face, Derek's got his eyebrows drawn in in a scowl, so Stiles smoothed away all the uneven crinkles and frown lines. 

His lip is busted and it burns and it's throbbing, but it doesn't stop him from leaning in to brush his lips across the lips of the man who saved him. 

No words need to be spoken, because they both know. They just do, they know.


End file.
